


That's Not Jealousy I Sense, Is It?

by RinzlersGhost



Series: #BonjourContentChallenge [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Jealousy, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinzlersGhost/pseuds/RinzlersGhost
Summary: Apparently the Lord of Imladris is a matchmaking heathen. Despite his tricks, you nearly lose the one you love, instead of it being the other way around.Nestadion X Gender Neutral ReaderThis is part of a Tumblr content challenge put on by bonjour-rainycity prompt week. Day One's Prompt is: Someone's jealous.
Relationships: Nestadion/Reader
Series: #BonjourContentChallenge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168115





	That's Not Jealousy I Sense, Is It?

**Author's Note:**

> Hir-nin - My Lord  
> Caun-nin - My Commander  
> Rendir-nin - My smiling one (masc)  
> Iesten - Please

There was something to be said for your relentless ethic to train. Ever since Elrond had held a council in the Valley concerning the events unfolding in Middle-Earth, you had been in training. You weren’t an unseasoned warrior; in fact, patrolling the borders was one of your jobs, but almost all your free time was taken by training and little else. You had no time to spend with your kin who were visiting the Valley; war was on the horizon, and now more than ever, you needed your skills to be sharp.

“Your fellow warriors tell me you are a force to be reckoned with. Do you actually do anything other than train on your days off?” Elrond murmured quietly. Your fingers twitched on the bow string, but you gave no other indication as you resteadied your aim. Trust the Lord of Imladris to be as catty as you imagined. You never had much interaction with him, other than on occasion running some patrols with him.

“ _Hir-nin_.” You replied, pleased that your arrow made its mark in the center of the target, despite you initially being startled by him, not that you were going to make that known to him. “Why bother with anything else? We know there is war on the horizons. Better to keep my skills sharp and my eyes on alert.” You murmured.

“There is such a thing as rest, you know. Or perhaps I wouldn’t have startled you with your mind on edge. Come, there is a gathering of our kin, and you are missing it.”

“I am not going to be the one to sit idly and listen to prattle when I know what is coming.” You notched another arrow to your bowstring. A hand placed itself on your arm, lowering the bow.

“Must I order it?” Elrond asked. You let your eyes slide to him; he looked amused. “ _Caun-nin_ Y/N.”

“I’m not a commander, not yet.”

“You’re not a marchwarden yet.” Elrond chuckled. “But you are a commander. And even commanders need to rest. But perhaps, I could entice you in other manners? Even Gildor has returned from his patrols on the borders to have a meal with his kin.”

“An unwise decision, really, _hir-nin_.” You murmured. “Gildor has prowess. The less time he spends in the Valley, the more instinct he relies on to carry him through his patrols.”

“So even seeing your friends would not deter you from your current course?” Elrond asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it, _hir-nin_? Gildor is a friend. And don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.” You shrugged off his hand, readying your bow to take another shot.

“I happen to think my plan will work about as well as I want it to. If you’re not going to stop then, would you care for a partner?” That did skew your aim, and you watched the arrow sail past the target, imbedding in the tree behind it. You looked at it in dismay, finally setting your bow down to actually give him your attention.

“My Lord?” You asked, pointedly. “My Lord, does anyone have the courage to tell you that you actually possess the cunning of a snake?”

“I sense the one you love is jealous.” Elrond remarked, a cunning smile on his lips. “What harm is there in two of my warriors taking some time to themselves?”

“There is war out there, my Lord.”

“I know. I also know that if I don’t make a chance for you two, you may never have it.” You sighed quietly. You intentionally hadn’t thought about it. There was the opportunity to leave Imladris and make for the Grey Havens, but you had ignored it, seeing as you were commander of a small force of Imladris warriors, and because the ellon you loved had also refused the chance to go.

“I have a duty to...”

“To your heart.” Elrond finished for you. “Not to Imladris, not when times are like this.”

“It is to Imladris, especially when times are like this! I have a duty to our people! How can you say such things?! What cause have I given you to doubt my loyalty to our kin?”

“I do not doubt it. Your skills are sharp, but you are on edge. You possess prowess and yet limit yourself as if committing yourself to another would cause you to stumble and fail.” You looked away, silent. His hand invaded your personal space, lifting your chin to meet his eyes, both of you knowing that such an action was considered personal, if not intimate. “I find that having something more to fight for has never guided me wrong.”

“I... will take that into consideration, my Lord.” You replied, finally summoning the courage to remove his hand from your chin, eyes flashing dangerously. “But I’m not one of your children, and I’m certainly not your lover, and you do not get to treat me like this.” So you put him over your shoulder and onto the ground. The fact was that you didn’t particularly appreciate him butting into your life to make someone jealous, and the worst part was that you knew his strategy had worked. You could feel the jealousy, the bitterness. You picked up your bow with a scowl, vanishing across the training fields, and praying that that bitterness you felt did not follow you. But fate would not be so kind.

“I knew you had a thing for darker-haired ellons, but the Lord of Imladris, really? Is that the welcome I get coming home from the patrols? I know we are not pledged to one another, but I had to have hope that you would wait for me.”

“I know that’s jealousy speaking!” You turned on him, seeing him battle-dirtied and weary from his patrols. “Nestadion, please. It isn’t what you think it is.”

“It looked pretty clear to me.”

“Oh, I am more than aware of what it looked like.” You replied sarcastically. “Did you see the part where I put him on the ground after that? Or were you too busy wrapped up in your own delusion to notice?” You were at an impasse with him, the two of you staring at each other, trying to figure out your own feelings. “ _Rendir-nin, iesten._ ” You murmured.

“Do I look like I’m in the mood for your nicknames?” Nestadion finally asked. You threw all caution to the wind and stepped towards him.

“There is nothing between me and Elrond. He sensed you were in from your patrols and saw an opportunity to make you jealous.”

“You expect me to believe that?! He is the Lord of the Valley!”

“And we will not likely have another chance if we do not take the one that is given to us!” You snapped right back. “While you were gone, he held a Council, a gathering of elves, men, and dwarves.” His eyes flicked to you; that much he knew was true for they had encountered many crossing the borders of Imladris. “The Ring of Power was in Imladris. A fellowship has departed to take it into Mordor and cast it into the fires of Mt. Doom. Everything we’ve ever trained for, it’s here, staring us down. I know I will lead my warriors in battle, and I know that we will face death. And I know you will too, because that’s just it, _Rendir-nin_ ; we were never going to be the ones who went to the Grey Havens when we have a duty to our people. If all we have ever trained for, bled for, been out on patrols for, is to end over jealousy and bitterness, then you at least have the right to know. There has never been anything between me or anyone else in Imladris, or any of the Elven Realms, or any of Middle-Earth. It’s always only been you; it will always only ever be you.” You murmured softly, reaching out to him. 

He didn’t immediately knock away your hand, though he stiffened when you touched his cheek, hand cupping the side of his face. “You’re my One, Nestadion; I wouldn’t betray you for the world. But if it will make you smile again to see me leave, then I will.” You whispered, taking a step backwards when his hand closed over your own.

“Stay.” It was almost comical to you how one word from the right person could send your heart into flutters. He nursed your hand to his cheek, sinking into the comfort of your touch. It had been a weary six weeks on patrol and combat had tired him and his troop of warriors. Seeing you was like coming home more than actually coming home was and he would never be able to make up for his harsh words against you. He drew you into his arms, pressing his forehead against your own. “Forgive me; I spoke out of turn.” Nestadion murmured. “It is difficult for me to understand that the Lord of the Valley would act in such a manner, but I gave you no chance to explain your side of the story. I am... battle-wearied and unfortunately short tempered right now, and that is no excuse for the vitriol I have spat at you.”

“I have heard your vitriol. You are tame.” You murmured, laughing softly, nuzzling his cheek with your own. He took the opportunity to press his hand to your cheek, bringing you in for a soft kiss, lips chapped but still warm against your own.

“I love you.” Nestadion whispered.

“And I love you.”


End file.
